


Give in!

by ColourShot



Category: Bottom (UK)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Fights, Gen, I don't know how to really explain this one, Richie is an idiot and never knows when to stop, This isn't overly gory, but just in case, i guess?, it does end well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:48:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27971879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourShot/pseuds/ColourShot
Summary: Eddie and Richie have gone to battle once again and Richie just refuses to give in, no matter how much Eddie makes him regret that.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Give in!

**Author's Note:**

> This is an odd one, I'm not really sure what to say other than writing them fight is fun? This was very much inspired the whole "You mean, all I have to do is say "I give in" and you'll stop thrashing me to a pulp?" line in Bottom Live 4 (if that wasn't obvious).
> 
> Apologies if the emotion in this one is a little odd but they do go from trying to kill each other to getting on again quite quickly in canon so I was kind of trying to do that.

Richie didn’t know how this particular fight had started but he supposed it didn’t _really_ matter. What did matter was that he was getting his ass thoroughly and truly kicked… _again._ Richie was hellbent on not losing this time, as incredibly stupid as that was. Eddie was winning, he always did. Another blow to Richie’s head reminded him quite quickly of that fact. This fight had lasted a good few hours, Richie honestly wasn’t even sure how that had been possible. They’d gone through every weapon they could get their hands on, frying pans, umbrellas, bottles, chairs, bathroom cabinets, hammers, hell even one particularly inspired idea from Eddie was to beat Richie over the head with a part of the stair banister. It was only when Eddie began to reach for the cricket bat did Richie start to regret his whole “not giving up” stance.

“W-Wait” Richie managed, stumbling back slightly, spitting out some of the blood that had begun to accumulate in his mouth. Eddie looked up at him, gripping onto that cricket bat, a dangerous look in his eyes. “Ahahaha” Richie began to move forward, feeling himself wobble slightly. He did happen to be feeling _very_ lightheaded. “T-This is silly Eddie, why don’t we sto-”

“Then say you give in.”

“No.” Curse Richie and his unwavering stubbornness. He _wasn’t_ bloody well going to give in. Eddie shrugged and tossed the cricket bat aside. Was _he_ giving up? Bloody hell! Maybe Richie was going to win after all…

A well aimed punch to the nose answered his question for him. Richie felt a wave of pain course through him. His hand flew up to his nose, feeling the mangled mess of blood and cartilage. 

“Bloody hell! You bastard! You broke my bloody nose!” Richie cried before hurriedly trying to stop the bleeding. 

“It’s certainly bloody now.” Eddie remarked, winding his fist up for another swing. Richie’s hands flew up instinctively, shielding his face. “ **Say. You. Give. In.** ” Eddie punctuated each word with a hit to the man’s body. Richie didn’t say anything, just furiously shook his head while trying to fight Eddie off. And failing miserably. He had managed to land a few hits, only getting double the beating in return. Richie was starting to become awfully tired, every movement was becoming more and more of an effort and it _bloody_ hurt anytime he _did_ manage to strike back. 

Eddie stepped back, seemingly tired of tussling with the man. He decided that he better resort to that previously discarded bat. Eddie could almost sense Richie recoiling as he gripped the bat. He turned around, watching Richie scrabble backwards, he’d managed to end up on the floor. Eddie didn’t move for a little while, instead deciding to study the mess of bruises and blood that was his flatmate. He supposed he felt something close to sympathy as he watched Richie’s chest rise and fall rapidly, as he watched the blood pouring from the man’s nose and head, collecting in his mouth. His shirt had become partially ripped in the scuffle, only just covering the array of new bruises. Any part of Eddie that was _supposed_ to be kicking in and stopping him from continuing the onslaught of violence wasn’t quite doing so. Perhaps he was too drunk or perhaps Eddie had never had that part in the first place.

Richie on the other hand, took Eddie’s hesitation as a sign of mercy...or at least having second thoughts about the whole “probably very nearly killing him with a cricket bat” thing. So Richie did what he did best, he opened his mouth and made everything a whole lot worse.

“H-Having second thoughts ‘ey? G-Gonna let me win?” Eddie marveled at Richie’s ability to sound smug even when he was bleeding profusely and staring down a bat wielding maniac. 

And how _incredibly_ stupid that was of him.

“Right.” Eddie nodded before raising the weapon above his head. Richie quickly shut his mouth, uttering a quick “WAIT!” before an almost sickening “THWACK” sounded. Surprisingly, Richie didn’t keel over immediately. He _did_ cry out but the bastard didn’t stop moving. He rather pathetically raised his fists, a sort of “ _Come at me_ ” gesture. From Eddie’s position, standing over him, bat in hand, Richie looked ridiculous. Blood was trickling down his forehead at an almost alarming rate but the idiot seemed determined to win (or at the very least, continue) the fight. Eddie directed the next swing at his torso, not fancying Richie’s chances if he aimed for the head again. Richie made an oddly strangled noise before he spat another spray of blood. Eddie had to admit, this was becoming less entertaining by the second. It wasn’t much fun fighting someone who wasn’t even trying to - or more accurately couldn’t - hit back. 

“Look...just- Just give in already.” Eddie finally spoke.

“ _No._ ” Richie’s response was barely a whisper but it still managed to piss Eddie off. He let out a grunt of frustration before tossing the bat to the side, hoisting Richie up by what was left of his shirt and shoving the man against the closest surface. 

“ **Say it.** ” Eddie said through gritted teeth. Richie didn’t let up, sticking - very foolishly - to his guns. 

“Why don’t you-” Richie exhaled, seemingly taking a mighty effort to do so. “W-Why don’t _you_ give in, if you’re getting so tired of this.” Eddie pulled back slightly. He wasn’t about to do that, partially because he’d never bloody hear the end of it if he did. As much as it seemed like he’d have to _kill_ Richie for this to end, he’d rather that over having to hear the git brag about winning. Well that’s what he _thought_ he believed.

“You know that’s not going to happen.” Eddie said, grip tightening on Richie’s shirt. “Now. Are you going to give this up?”

“W-Why do you want me to so badly?” 

“Because I don’t want to bloody well kill you! But I might have to if you keep this up!” Eddie exclaimed. Richie almost laughed before coughing up _more_ blood. 

“Why don’t you want to?” That made Eddie pause.

“I-”

“I mean, Jesus, Eddie! You’ve practically been trying to kill me for the past twenty five years. H-Here’s your chance.” Eddie’s grip loosened, this was all becoming frightfully too real. Much too close to any sort of...emotion for Eddie’s liking. He may have just spent the past few hours beating Richie within an inch of his life _but_...well...well Eddie didn’t know. He hadn’t gotten far ahead enough in his thinking to really come up with an excuse as to _why_ he didn’t just finish the job.

“I’m not going to…” Eddie avoided Richie’s gaze, no doubt he was getting a questioning look. 

“Why?” That certainly was the question of the hour. Richie’s words hung in the air for a little too long. 

“Because-” Eddie couldn’t exactly break down now and say “ _Well my old matey, I know we’ve been having an incredibly fantastic fight where I’ve smashed your face in over and over but I’d really rather **not** kill you because well….I care about you or some sappy bollocks like that._” Thankfully he didn’t have to. “-Cause I don’t want to have to deal with all the cleanup, much less have to drag your sad, fat, body god knows where just to get rid of it.” Richie looked unsure but perhaps that was just the bloodloss making his eyes cross. Eddie couldn’t tell. Still, it seemed they’d arrived at quite the predicament. Neither one of them wanted to lose, they were both just as stubborn as each other. One of them was just a much better fighter. Even so - despite everything - Eddie let go of Richie, letting him fall to the floor. Richie didn’t say much, he just slumped over, chest heaving as he lay there. Eddie grimaced slightly and strode past him, deciding to try and wash some of the blood off his hands.

“You’ve bruised my knuckles.” Eddie held up one of his bloodstained hands, examining it. 

“Oh my heart _bleeds_.” Richie piped up, motioning to himself before doubling over again. “ _Ouch_ , actually now that I think about it, it may actually be doing so.” Richie clutched his chest slightly. “No thanks to you.” Richie added, eyeing Eddie, slightly warily. He was unsure if the fight had officially stopped.

“Well that’s what happens when you don’t ask me to stop.” Eddie finished washing his hands. 

“Yes yes, spare me the lecture.” Richie waved his hand at him before wincing again. He attempted, very clumsily, to stand. This failed and he just narrowly missed crashing to the floor again. He managed to catch himself on the table (which had somehow stayed in one piece). Eddie sighed, dried his hands and slung Richie’s arm over his shoulder, hoisting him up properly. “What’re you-”

“Don’t mention it.” It sounded less like a nicety and more of a command. Richie decided it was in his best interest to follow it for now. Eddie helped Richie onto the couch, being surprisingly gentle for someone who only a few minutes ago was - as far as Richie was concerned - trying to kill him. “Alright, t-shirt off, let me see the damage.” Richie scoffed at that. 

“No way, if you think you’re getting a peek at _my_ bo-”

“Oh for god sakes, Richie. I’m trying to bloody well help, you sad bastard. Now let me see. You’ve hardly got any t-shirt left anyway!”

“Yes well, who’s fault is that?” Eddie rolled his eyes. Despite his rather vocal protest, Richie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, looking away as Eddie began to assess the damage. Eddie grimaced only slightly as his eyes drifted over every new bruise and cut that his flatmate had managed to acquire. Yes they were all courtesy of him but...still. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Eddie pushed any thought that even _began_ to resemble guilt in any way out of his head and focused on cleaning Richie up. The man had survived worse.

**  
Richie complained terribly the entire time. 

“ _You’re doing it wrong!_ ”

“ _Do it your bloody self then!_ ” 

But they still managed to return Richie somewhat to his original state. And even though Richie was _quite_ sure it was dangerous to ask about the fight, he had to know. 

“Did...did I win?” He hestainly asked, halfway through whatever tv show they’d put on. 

“No. Who said the fight even stopped?” Eddie grunted.

“But…”

“Think of it as being...temporarily on hold.” Eddie looked over at Richie, who had a smug smile beginning to creep onto his face. 

“Is that code for ‘Richie won, he’s wonderful and Eddie’s a terrible bastard for almost killing his best friend?’” Richie really never knew when to stop.

“No. No it’s not. In fact-” Eddie raised a fist. “I’m willing to resume that fight right now.” Richie quickly backed down, unaware that Eddie wasn’t _really_ being serious. As annoying as Richie could be, Eddie was unsure if he actually had it in him to thrash him so soon after tending to his wounds. If anything, it’d undo all his hard work.

No, there’d be plenty of time for many more fights in the future. Eddie might just not let them get _that_ out of hand again. Although he couldn’t promise anything...


End file.
